


stop, stop, stop

by Misty_Reeyus



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 05:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/pseuds/Misty_Reeyus
Summary: She’s fighting with all her strength but it hurts, everything hurts and she doesn’t want to do this, but she can’t stop, she won’t stop, oh please please for the love of godsomebody make her stop!





	stop, stop, stop

**Author's Note:**

> written for [Yustelle Week](http://herestotheroadahead.tumblr.com/post/174517397426/yustelle-week-2018-will-run-from-september) > Day 4: Blood/Tears

Estelle wakes up screaming.

She doesn’t realize where she is at first, her mind spinning so fast it feels numb, her sense of self somehow detached from her own body. Her vision is red, her limbs are not her own, and all she can hear is her own agonized cries and Alexei’s cruel, terrible, unending laughter. She’s fighting with all her strength but it hurts, everything hurts and she doesn’t want to do this, but she can’t stop, she won’t stop, oh please please for the love of god _somebody make her stop_ —!

“Estelle, you’re safe!”

Her flailing arms are suddenly forced down, pinned to her sides, finally blissfully _stopped_ , and after Estelle’s eyes jerk open, her vision slowly begins to clear. The room is dim but she can still make out the overall shapes, and once it hits her that she’s not on the Sword Stair, her muscles abruptly go slack. The hands that were clenched tight around her wrists now release her limp arms, instead rubbing soothingly over her back.

“I’m here, okay?” Yuri murmurs into her ear, his voice instantly comforting, his touches grounding her to the real world. “I’m right here, Estelle. You’re home, you’re with me. You’re _safe_.”

Estelle latches onto those words, lets them guide her out of her panicked haze, until she fully recognizes her surroundings. She’s in bed, her and Yuri’s shared bed, in their house in Halure. She’s not under Alexei’s control because Alexei is dead, has been dead for over three years. Yuri is by her side, alive and whole and clearly worried about her, and at last, Estelle lets herself go, slumping into Yuri’s arms as heaving sobs spill unbidden from her lips.

It’s been months since she last dreamt about what Alexei did. She’d actually started to hope lately that the nightmares might finally be behind her.

So much for that.

Yuri shifts against her to reach over towards the nightstand, flicking on their lamp and grabbing a pack of tissues, the latter of which he shoves into her hands. Estelle gratefully takes one of the paper sheets and promptly smushes it between her face and her palm.

“You wanna talk about it?” Yuri asks, and Estelle bites her lip.

The question is familiar to them both, and the answer always depends. Sometimes, Estelle needs to talk about the nightmare to remind herself that it’s not real, and other times, she needs to distract herself by talking about literally anything else until her heart calms again. This time, she has to take a minute to decide.

Once she does, the words come pouring out like a waterfall.

“I killed you,” Estelle gasps tearfully, rolling the now soaked tissue into a lumpy wet wad. “I-I killed all of you. I killed Karol and Repede and Judith a-and, and Rita and Raven and then, and then…” She takes a shuddering inhale, wipes at her runny nose. “And t-then I stabbed you, over and over and over again, and I had to watch myself do it and I couldn’t make it _stop_ —”

Hiccups rise up, and whatever she was about to say next becomes lodged in her throat. Yuri gives her another tissue, and Estelle grabs it with trembling hands. In her dream, her hands were far too steady around the hilt of her sword; her will was far too weak while her power was far too great. Estelle sliced through each member of her family as if they were butter, until six corpses surrounded her and her blade dripped with a sickly dark red.

“We’re alive,” Yuri murmurs, drawing her away from the horrors within her mind. “We’re all fine, Estelle. You didn’t do anything. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay!” Estelle chokes out, vigorously shaking her head. “I…I still hurt you, Yuri! I hurt _everyone_ , and if you hadn’t been strong enough back then, I would have—!”

“ _Alexei_ hurt us,” Yuri cuts her off, his tone indicating that he refuses to hear otherwise. “And worse, he hurt _you_. It was fucked up, but you didn’t have a choice, and you’re not responsible for anything he made you do.” Yuri grabs her by the shoulders to whirl her around, and once they’re face to face, Estelle realizes that he’s _angry_ at her. He’s angry because she’s blaming herself. “None of what happened back then was in any way your fault. You got that?”

Estelle rubs her eyes and nods, because she honestly does understand, even if she has to be reminded from time to time. But even knowing that the blame is not her own, she’s still so scared of what she’d done back then. She’s scared of what she became under Alexei’s control—a thing, a tool, a weapon powerful enough to bring the entire world to ruin.

She’s scared of the possibility that in the future, somehow, she’ll become like that again.

“I hate what he did to me,” Estelle mumbles, staring down at her hands, each one now clenching a soggy tissue ball. “He made me lose control of myself, and it…it was so awful. I never want that to happen again.”

“It won’t,” Yuri responds, and his voice is so firm and determined that Estelle actually feels herself start to believe it. “Estelle, I am _never_ going to let anything or anyone hurt you like that ever again. I swear on my life.”

Yuri’s grip around her waist tightens, and Estelle gives up on the tissues to instead reach for him, curling her arms around his neck and burying her face against his chest. Yuri kisses the top of her head and strokes his fingers through her hair, and Estelle cries and cries and cries into his shirt until she has no more tears left. Eventually, she gathers up enough strength to pull away, and Yuri meets her gaze kindly.

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?” Yuri asks.

Estelle shakes her head.

“Okay.” Yuri glances towards the clock on their bedside table, and Estelle follows his gaze—about five-fifteen in the morning. “Then how about we just head downstairs and cook ourselves a nice early breakfast?”

After a moment, Estelle nods, and when Yuri promptly rolls out of bed to make good on his offer, she’s quick to follow him. Setting her feet down on the floor, she grasps Yuri’s hand in her own and holds it tight, and Yuri encouragingly squeezes hers in return.

All the way down to the kitchen, neither of them lets go.


End file.
